


Because it is heaven

by botherbutterfly



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Era, Heaven, M/M, Post-Barricade, Post-Canon, heaven's gates, post-death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 07:30:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6185941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/botherbutterfly/pseuds/botherbutterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire has a choice.  Heaven or Hell.  Enjolras or wine.</p><p>Post-death fic at the gates of heaven.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because it is heaven

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea how to do summaries. Forgive me for the rubbishness of this one.
> 
> Basically, this idea came from a conversation my housemate and I had a while ago. But, I only just got around to writing it.
> 
> Also, it's mostly based off the musical, since I haven't finished the Brick yet. Just with the book death scene.

When Grantaire awoke, a number of things didn’t feel right.  For one, he was neither drunk, nor hungover.  And for the other, his right hand felt...empty.  His hand automatically clenched at the empty air, until someone near by seemed to take pity on him, and entwined it with their own.  Startled, the artist finally opened his eyes and lifted his head.  Only to see the most beautiful angel he’d ever seen.

 

“Enjolras?”  He breathed, and then as their eyes met.  It all came back to him.  The barricades, the shots, the scorn and finally their execution.  And like that, he pulled the other man into his arms.  His best friend.  His Apollo.  Knowing that whatever happened.  They’d both need that human contact right now.

 

“Grantaire.”  Enjolras smiled at his friend.  Relieved that they were together even after the very end.  And melted into his embrace.  The memory of the screams and their friends dying had given him no reprieve since he had awoken, minutes before the cynic.  At least, not until he’d taken Grantaire’s hand in his.

 

The artist pulled back slightly, a sardonic grin spreading across his face.  “There really is a heaven, then, mon ami.  It must be heaven if you are here, non?”

 

“Do not be ridiculous, R.   If anyone deserves to be in heaven, it is you.  Not I.”

 

“I would argue with you, Apollo.  For why would heaven not have place for a god?  But, we should find our friends, non?”

 

Shaking his head with amusement, Enjolras turned with him to explore this new world they had awoken in.  His hand automatically reaching out and clasping Grantaire’s.  He felt wrong without it, somehow.  He suspected it had something to do with how they had died.  But, in all honesty, he barely even gave it a second thought.

 

Wandering through corridors of white.  They eventually found their friends, near a gate of gold.  It looked as if they were waiting for something.  And indeed they were, for as soon as Gavroche noticed their presence, he alerted the others with a shout, before he barrelled into Grantaire.  The artist, almost without thought, lifted the boy up onto his shoulders.  Laughing with joy to be reunited with his young friend again.  The death of whom had broken his heart earlier that day.

 

“So, we are all together?”  Enjolras asked, stepping forward to embrace Les Amis, one by one.

 

“Marius isn’t here.”  Courfeyrac, piped up from where he’d been comforting Jehan.  “I saw him fall.  But, perhaps he has not died.  If he had, he should have been he before us.”

 

The leader nodded briefly.  He hoped that Marius had survived.  And gone on to marry his beloved.  If even one of his friends could survive the massacre, then there was at least one person who would remember them.  Remember what they’d tried to do for France.

 

He supposed there was nothing more to do, than approach the gate.  Taking the lead, as per usual, he soon realised there was a desk in front of it.  St Peter, he supposed.  But, still as he approached, the man at the desk smiled sadly at them.

 

“It is always sad to see those who die before their time.”  He picked up his quill, before leaning down at the list in front of him.  “Name?”

 

But, before Enjolras could answer, Grantaire stepped up.  Gavroche still close by his side.  “Before we give you our names.  Will you answer some questions?”

 

Peter nodded in agreement, before gesturing for them to continue.

 

“Is this heaven?”

 

“It is.”

 

“And, is there wine in heaven?”

 

“There is no need to wine, in heaven.”  Peter replied.  His eyes boring into the artist’s, as if he could read his very soul.  Which he very likely could, considering.

 

“No need for….”  The drunk cut off with a laugh.  “That is the most amusing thing I have ever heard.  Is heaven so heavenly that no one drinks at all?  There is wine in the bible, my friend.  Jesus himself turns water into wine.  If it was a sin, then surely he would not have done that.  So, answer me this.  Why is there no need of wine in heaven?”

 

“Because it is heaven.”  Peter answered.  And of course, to the cynic this was no answer at all.  He didn’t even believe in heaven.  The only thing he believed in was Enjolras, and he was about to say so, when a hand landed on his shoulder.

 

“Be still, Grantaire.”  Marble lips whispered into his ear.  “Would you have us separated now?”

 

“No”, he breathed quietly, turning to meet Enjolras’s eyes.  Leaning their foreheads together, he took a deep breath, before stepping back.  And allowing Enjolras to start the proceedings.  As one by one, they were admitted through the gates.  Even the drunken cynic, and his god.


End file.
